Chapter 3

Sharon Raydor collapsed on her couch. The repugnant smell of smoke, which had cloaked the entire main floor of her bungalow, had finally receded somewhat. She had just finished putting her kitchen back in to order, as well as her living room area, so she was treating herself to a glass of wine.

She hated when Mitchell came over and disrupted her life. She hoped he would have the good sense to stay away that evening. He should know she would not be up for another round of bullying and blow jobs. She felt sick to her stomach by the fact she'd actually taken him inside her mouth. The same mouth that had so wantonly kissed the beautiful Deputy Chief. The woman she had not been expecting to see at all earlier that day.

She really wished that she would not feel delightful chills every time she thought about her. But Sharon had long since discovered that she had no way of stopping the way her body reacted when she thought, or saw, or heard from the blonde. Some things were just out of her control.

She could hear a key sliding in to the lock of her front door. Why she didn't just change the locks and be done with this whole mess was beyond her. Setting her wine glass on the coffee table, Sharon pulled herself up and made a beeline to the front door, relocking it before he could get inside.

"Oh come on, Sharon. Don't be a child."

"Go away! I've had enough of you." She called right back through the door.

"Come on baby, I'll be gentle tonight. I brought some wine. That kind you like," Mitchell thought he could just sweet talk her in to whatever he wanted. Well she was just a little too smart to give in to his antics.

"No. Please, leave." Sharon pushed her small frame up against the door, knowing that if Mitchell really wanted to he could still probably get inside. "I swear to God I'm going to change the locks. All of them."

"You wouldn't do that, Shar. Come on, you know you don't want to be alone tonight. I'll fuck you real sweet and slow."

"Would you shut the fuck up? My neighbors can probably hear you. Christ." Sharon rubbed her palm in to her forehead. She could go for a good fuck right about now, but not with him. She had no interest in being the receptacle for his sperm. That's how it always ended. He always took what he wanted and left her with nothing. She hadn't orgasmed with him for years. "Seriously, Mitchell. I don't want you tonight. Go away."

"I brought you this fucking wine, come on Sharon."

"No!" Sharon felt her cell phone ringing in her pocket. She jumped on the welcomed distraction. Maybe they had a new lead on the Maxwell case. "Work is calling, Mitchell. Please go away," she called out before answering, "Captain Raydor."

"Sharon," Sharon had neglected to see who was actually calling. Of course it would be Brenda Leigh.

She could hear the shattering of the wine bottle on her front porch. It made her jump. She put her hand over the receiver and cursed. She wanted to kill him.

"Is everything all right?" Brenda must have heard the noise too, or Sharon's profanity, but either way she knew something had happened.

"Yes, I just…I just slipped. It's okay." Sharon straightened herself up, knowing that Mitchell would leave. He wouldn't attempt to come back that evening. She might just leave that wine bottle all broken and shattered on her front porch so he'd step on it the next time he tried to come back. She wished he would go to hell.

"I…I don't mean to bother you," Brenda's voice sounded small on the other end, as if she were embarrassed to be talking to Sharon at all.

"No, it's quite all right," after all she'd saved her from Mitchell, from another night of self-degradation. "What can I help you with, Brenda?" Sharon moved back to the living room and settled down on her couch.

"Now don't get upset with me," Brenda cautioned which immediately drew out a sarcastic, deep laugh from Sharon.

"Please do not even start talking about the case you are currently under investigation for and involved in." Sharon sipped her wine and shook her head.

"But, Capt'n, I have…"

"No, Chief." Sharon held up her hand as if Brenda could see. "I will not have this conversation with you."

Brenda sunk down in the tub – a bath Fritz had forced her to take in an attempt to get her to relax -, glad for her cover of bubbles. If Fritz walked in at that moment he would be unable to see just where her hand was hovering.

"Sharon, would you please just let me talk. You can deny everything I'm about to say, but I have to tell someone." Brenda's voice was a heightened whisper. She knew that Fritz was in the other room watching a football game, but she didn't want him to overhear her. She wasn't ashamed of calling Sharon Raydor, but she was a bit paranoid about openly discussing a case she should have nothing to do with now – and for letting her fingers trail dangerously close to her surprisingly alert clit. Sharon's voice made her ache.

She felt disgusting for feeling this way with her husband sitting in the next room.

Sharon took a deep breath on the other end of the line. "Okay talk, but I am not promising I will let you finish your thoughts. I do not want to get involved with anything other than what I am already involved in."

Brenda nodded her approval, sliding her hand between her folds. It felt so wrong to touch herself; yet, it was wrong in a delightfully exciting way. "I think Mrs. Dunaway was involved."

"What? Brenda, she came to us. She brought us the information." Sharon sounded incredulous. Brenda let the phone slide away from her mouth as she fought back a sigh.

"I know, but I interviewed her. I talked to her. I think she has somethin' to gain from getting' her husband out of the way." Brenda was proud of herself for keeping her voice even.

"I think you're grasping at straws. Leave it alone, Brenda Leigh. Please," She knew Sharon wouldn't want to hear this, but she could at least try, couldn't she? And besides, she needed to hear her voice; their brief interaction in the office had left Brenda in need of a release she knew her husband couldn't give her…at least not entirely.

"I don't," Brenda huffed, her mouth falling open as she found a particularly sensitive spot. "I don't want," she bit back a gasp, but a moan escaped from between her lips.

"What are you doing, Brenda Leigh?" Sharon's voice had lowered considerably; her question sounded cautious.

"Please," Brenda panted, "don't stop…don't stop talking."

"Fuck," Sharon grunted. "I am not doing this with you, Brenda Leigh." She sounded angry, but when Brenda let out a slight sigh she heard Sharon's breath catch before she whispered, "You drive me absolutely insane."

"Please, Sharon." Brenda felt oddly on the verge of tears, yet she needed a release. She needed Sharon, to have her as she had nearly three weeks ago. She had not realized the needs of her body, of her sexual appetite until Sharon Raydor's fingers had so artfully gotten her off. Followed by her lips. Oh good Lord in heaven.

"Brenda," Sharon's jaw sounded clenched. She was angry. Brenda pushed harder, her head falling back. She hoped she didn't drop the phone in the tub. "Jesus, I can hear you breathing. Don't…oh, God."

"Sharon," Brenda gasped, "I can't stop…I can't stop thinking about..."

"Oh fuck, Brenda Leigh," Sharon hissed.

And her name coming from Sharon's lips that final time drove her right to her orgasm. She had to fight to quiet the moan that escaped as she let go, worried that Fritz would overhear her. Brenda leaned back in the tub, letting her hand float to the surface, to skim through the bubbles that were slowly disappearing.

A moment of silence passed and Brenda began to wonder if Sharon had hung up on her.

"What did you just do?" Sharon finally snapped, as if catching her own breath.

"What do you think I just did?" Brenda's voice was Southernly slow.

"That's not fair, Brenda Leigh." Sharon sniffed. "And, I would advise you to not pursue anything, do you hear me, anything pertaining to Mrs. Dunaway. I know," Sharon sighed, "I know this is hard, Brenda Leigh. Let it be hard. Don't go searching for loose ends to make yourself feel better. You had every right to kill him. He had a gun in your face, which I don't need to remind you, but it was a life or death situation. You saved your own life and who knows how many other people's lives."

Brenda felt tears falling down her cheeks. The same logic she had been trying to grasp herself sounded so much more comforting coming from Sharon's mouth. She hadn't known the woman to be a comforter, but she was. "I just think…"

There was a knock at the bathroom door, "Are you all right, Brenda?"

"Yes, Fritzy. I'm almost done." She wiped furiously at her cheeks, hoping her voice sounded even.

"Do you want me to order in some Chinese?"

"Oh, that would be lovely, thank you." Brenda responded, listening as Fritz walked away. "I'm sorry," she whispered to Sharon.

"It sounds like you should go." Sharon's voice had taken on a more serious tone. Brenda immediately wished that Fritz had not interrupted their conversation.

"Sharon," Brenda was horrible at ending conversations with Sharon.

"Really, go enjoy your evening with Agent Howard." Sharon was going to hang up on her whether she liked it or not. "And please, please don't pursue anything. Take time off. Relax."

"Okay," Brenda swept a hand through the bubbles, realizing her time with Sharon was about to end. She had to go back to her regular life, to Fritz, to pretending to be happy in marital bliss. "Thank you." She finally whispered.

"Brenda," Sharon had one last thing to say.

"Hmm?"

"Please don't get off while I'm talking to you on the phone again."

"Why not?"

"I can't…just…don't."

And with that Sharon hung up the phone and leaned back against the couch, her mouth opening as her fingers rubbed frantically. She allowed herself the moan she had been holding in.

She was fucked.

"Agent Howard."

Fritz glanced up from his desk, surprised to find Captain Raydor hovering in his doorway.

"Captain Raydor, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He, a little too snidely, inquired.

Sharon looked a bit off-put. "Do you mind?" She held the door as if she wanted to come inside.

Fritz shrugged, "not at all. Come in. Is this," he waited until the door closed, "is this about Brenda?"

"It is," Sharon crossed her arms over her chest. "I went ahead and sat up a therapy appointment for her. I just need you to make sure she goes. It's mandatory, but I know she'll try to find a way out of it if she can."

Fritz nodded, realizing that Sharon was looking out for his wife. "Of course. I'll make sure she gets there."

"Here's the date and location," Sharon held out a piece of paper for him. He took it and glanced down at the information.

"Thank you, Captain."

Sharon nodded, "get her there." And with that she turned and left his office.